Bellicose
by thydistantstar
Summary: Rose/the Doctor. There are very little things in the world that are worth fighting for, the Doctor know's this more than most. But maybe this can all change. For once he might just find something Bellicose. Martha Jone's explores the relationship of Rose and the Doctor. 1920's AU.


I got the idea of this story from the parties in The Great Gatsby and then it seemed to escalate from there. It is set in the 1920's, although I do know I have used spacial knowledge which would not have been known back then. It is a Rose/ The Doctor story, must is written in Martha's point of view, but parts are in the Doctor's.

So here enjoy, part one of three.

Warning's: Mentions of thought's of suicide. None that heavy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor who.

I also apologise in advance as I have no Beta, so there will be mistakes in grammar and spelling.

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Bellicose

ˈbɛlɪkəʊs  
adjective  
1.  
demonstrating aggression and willingness to fight.

In life there are very little things worth fighting for. Very little things that make people show bellicose. Even in times like this where, the world of full of excess and full of well everything. Passion is something very hard to find. Even in the fieriest of souls. Because most people see such emotions too draining, too much. In times like this money is all that matters, and matters of the heart matter very little. In my twenty years of living I have seen little worth fighting for. Little worth anything more than the pounds in my pocket, but the Doctor showed me this side of the world, he showed me more, made me more, because that is what he does. And he does so brilliantly. It is what he does to everyone, he shows them that the world as poor as it seems is still wonderful. It is better than we all perceive it to be, because no matter how much of the world I hate there will always be more of it I love. Because of him, because of her, because of all of them.

I'd been seeing Mickey for months now and he wouldn't budge, I would push and push. But he wouldn't tell me anything. It would be eight months in to our relationship that I would learn of his, how do I say this? 'social circle'. That most of his friends were part of the biggest mob in London. I never dreamed old Mick would know people like that, maybe my mother was right when she said he was a wrong'n. But at this point I was in too deep, I liked, maybe I weren't ready to say I loved him. But I certainly liked him. But I had known so little about his life beyond his small home in the city. He lived in the heart of London, I lived on the edge. we had meet in a dinner where I had acted as a care given to the creations made there. He had arrived with a few other men, all dressed smart. I found him strange on sight, but oddly appealing. We clicked together two pieces of a puzzle the moment we spoke our first words to each others. But it seemed while my whole piece was clear and open, whilst his was clouded in the mist of his life beyond his pokey like house. I knew very little of his life beyond the gates which crossed his grass.  
It would be three weeks later I got the chance to meet his 'friends'. Well, it certainly wasn't what I had expected. I never expected to see the Doctor there, let alone think he would be the host. Everyone knew the Doctor.  
He was the biggest face in London, everyone wanted to know him, everyone wanted a part of him, when he entered the room everyone turned and knew who he was. He was just one of those people. The women all wanted him, I have to admit myself included and the men all wished to be him.  
I gasped as I caught sight of our host. My mother would have a heart attack on the spot as her aged eyes would have caught his skinny iconic figure, let alone what she would have thought of a party such as this.  
We arrived at a house that buzzed with life beyond that of our own. The house itself appeared fairly little and unremarkable. But as I drew closer my sentiment was captured by the many whom gasped and all echoed the same notion 'it's bigger on the inside.' There were dancers who shimmered their way through the room, their figures wrapped in bright shimmering colours that caught the light in every muscle movement, they glinted at rainbows and ever shone colours I'd never seen before. There were just flows of alcohol, every surface covered in colours of many, they sent light fumes in to the air that misted the lights which shone like stars from the ceiling.

The room itself was more of a pit of people which fell short before our feet. Stairs leading down to the main pit, where many stood chin wagging to each other. The dancers flitted between the groups, like snakes, no noise fell from their steps and their bodies flowed like bones disintegrated the moment their outfits had been fit. As if they were no longer human, but some creature beyond even our greatest of novels. It was a world of excess. Colours flew though the room lightening every surface. The walls white, collecting the colours that streamed to room. Golden streamers weaved over head in 'w's' people were dressed in their best, most up to the nine's. It was a sight which comes down your throat and simply steals one's breath away on sight. Specks of gold flew from the air above as if being shredded from the stars themselves. As if each was their own sun, but brighter and more magnificent that our own. There was a large block of glass that seemed to form doors to the out doors that seemed just as bright as the world in here. The drink was held in glasses that looked as flawless and clear as ice, as if each had been hand crafted from such with care, love caressing each detail. The whole room screamed excess, the whole room screamed alien. It was another world, one of colours that did not exist beyond the imagination, there was people so extraordinary they should not in themselves exist. This house was like a magic carpet to a world beyond our own, a world where there were many suns that beamed out these colours, skies that twitched and flickered and expanded.  
I watched almost hypnotised at the dances splayed their boneless bodies along the floor, all copying my glance, well all but the Doctor, he seemed to hold no eye to females. He barely glanced in ones direction and when he did he was clearly uninterested. This phased me. A man with such power in his hands, a man as magnetic in personality as he was, how could he possibly be alone? A man as eccentric and electric as him, It seemed wrong.  
But every once in a while he would look around and occasionally converse with other people. The people themselves were iconic and known in their own right. I saw Donna Noble (half sister to the host.) she was known in her own forces, I saw the faces you only saw in black and white in the sheets which held more gossip then fact. I saw captain Jack Harkness he was know as the Doctor's right hand man, friend and enemy in his own right. I saw Reinette Possion most eligible single woman in London, a woman who's followers circled the world and more. I saw faces who I never dreamt of perceiving in reality.  
Mickey lead me in the direction the host had shifted to a few moments ago. The Doctor, Or John Noble as was his birth name was the director of the famous gang T.A.R.D.I.S an organisation which spanned most the globe, and apparently one of it members stood hand in hand with myself.  
Jonathan Noble, or John for short was a mind of which most had never seen. A man of many words to many people. But it was clear that in this moment something was lacking. He seemed like a shadow of the stories I had heard. He was still magnetic to the people I saw him leave words to in passing. Every step seemed calculated, but at the same time casual, this was his castle in a sense I supposed. He was a slender man, tall. With eyes that were so chocolate you found yourself melting in them if you starred for too long. But although beautiful those eyes seemed empty, as if her was missing something. It was a deep unsettling sadness that echoed in those chocolate depths. It was slight and only those whom had felt such themselves would understand it. It was the same feeling I had felt when my father had began to drift away from us to his mistress, it was the same sadness my own mothers eyes were hollowed out and filled with. But that was the thing this sadness it never filled the gaps, merely made them harder to see.  
I meet a few more faces that night. One I remember fondly and always will was that of Rose Tyler. She was Jimmy's girl, a man more muscle than brain. A man to whom this young girl was attached to. See the Doctor was not the only one to hold that hollowness in his eyes, it was echoed in her own golden depth's. It was almost tragic to see such in a girl so young, just a child really. But her eyes portrayed something so much older. I imagined her eye would change colour the way the ocean does, the deeper the depth, the darker the tones. For eyes which were so golden seemed to glitter very little.

It would only later be that I learnt how the two had meet that night.

On a rooftop the emptiness that followed the Doctor more closely than his own shadow had threatened to other throw him. It's movements quicker than those he had seen before. He stood a man of twenty nine with nothing but lose and darkness behind him. His family had been torn from him in circumstances as opaque to us as a deep fog on a moor. He stood straight backed, as if a rod had attached itself to his very back and hunkered down there for the rest of it's life. His hair trembled as the wind combed it's mighty transcendental fingers through it, almost as if the elements themselves offered comfort to the broken man. A man who's very soul emanated darkness at this time. He stood shoes tipped to the end of the walk, well, as much of a walk as a roof would offer, their doubled points pointing like a compass to the west, although tilted slightly down. As if the man would not quite decide if he wished to drop or not. His black tied suit flapped elegantly against the wind, as if the two were intertwined in some intrinsic dance. Even the elements seemed to play to his will. His thoughts brewed like a storm as he tipped his head skyward and looked at the star's. His father had once told him that even in your loneliest moments the stars were there for you. It was only in this second he doubted that truth. Because in this moment even the stars seemed less bright. His whole world had lost in colour in a couple of months and he was left with nothing but a sepia nightmare. Where the only colours of his former life were faint and lifeless.  
Even his own thoughts felt lifeless, they were no longer vivid, just waves of aggression and pain that just seemed to play over and over, like the tune of a demented broken record player. Even the super nova that was his sister seemed to have lost some of her gleam in the past few months. It had been heard on them both, they had not just lost their home, their family, but a part of themselves had been buried with the charred remains of their past life.  
As his thoughts turned over with the velocity of storm enraged waves he did not catch the light click of the door to the rooftop. It appeared he was not the only one with dark thoughts.  
"A little late to be stargazing?" The tone shocked him, it was light and smooth. He had expected a telling off, such thoughts he was holding were not seen to be well received in these days. He turned slowly to the voice, it was obviously feminine, no man's voice could sound that melodically, not matter how hard Jack tried. He's eyes fell gracefully on to a halo of lightened golden hair. It was all he could see in the low light. But still it intrigued him enough to step back on to the solid roof slightly. The comment itself confused him, they had both obviously known what he was thinking off and yet she did not comment on it, most would condemn him for such 'weak' thoughts, this one seemed to understand his motives though. That idea intrigued him even more, the woman had sounded young, almost too young. That idea made his face fall slightly…  
He knew she had intended the comment as a joke, she was offering him a way out. He stepped forward once more, taking it.  
"Oh, it's never to late to stargaze. Not when the sky is as fantastic as this." He grinned brightly to her. From his small pace forward he could see who she was, she had caught his eyes a few times. She was Stone's girl, a girl of bright words and even brighter smiles, or so it had seemed. The fact she realised what he had been thinking made he think that maybe her smiles were dimmer than she let on.  
"'suppose so. Can't argue with that." Her tone implied she was London born, lower class than most in the room below, but it was a sweet tone he found himself wishing to hear more of. As her sentence lead of her arm gestured to the brightly lit sky which hung above them, the stars more dazzling that any light's he could ever buy. Which seemed to have become luminescent in the past few seconds. He would blame the sudden brightness of the start on the passing of clouds, but in his hear he would know that to be false.  
"Quite right too." His smile brighten to almost match hers, but her felt his failed to capture the moment hers did.  
They stood silent for a few moments, the silence was not once of discomfort, it was quite the opposite, it seemed to be one of understanding. The only sound was the wind which seemed to have switched from it's harshity to a light whisper, in this it seemed to emulate his thoughts. There was the small motion of sound from the floor below, the light thud as the brass orchestra made it's wage in notes. This carried on a while until the light swish of Miss Tyler's dress swirled around them as she settled down along the rim of the roof that his toes had been occupying just before. She sat legs dangling over the side as she looked over the garden to the sea of light which flowed from above her head to the faint distance that was clouded by stars. Their shine far more dazzling than diamonds to her bare eyes. In that moment she saw to herself she had never seen anything so beautiful.  
Seconds later he joined her and they sat for hours side by side, few words passed worn lips. They booth sat content in the company they had found. They sat till the hours of the night shifted in to morning, as heavily intoxicated people fled out on to the lawn below swinging feet and giggles the minutes in their passing. It would only be as the sun broke the scene that the two realised that this little world the two had found containing each other was not the only one.  
"We've been gone hours won't anyone be looking for you?" He asked her politely, although his nerves were shown as she rain his hand through his already wind combed locks.  
"You're the host, is the bigger question as to whether or not they'll miss you?" He chucked slightly surprised by her tone and raised eyebrow. Most would have simply answered, instead she insisted upon teasing him.  
"Nope." He popped the 'p' loudly almost punctuating it as he stood, offering her his hand as he did so.  
"Jimmy left hours ago." Her sentence didn't finish, it didn't need to. He understood what she was implying. No-one cared.

Then hand in hand they stepped back towards the door. The Doctor looked over at the roof once more, shaking his head once. Maybe the world wasn't that dim after all.

That was the first time I was told they had meet. But since they meet the once they would be drawn together many times. Coming together over and over like a moth to a flame, I would never try and place which was which both shared qualities of each. The first time I would see the two together would be during a game of poker.

This to me would be the second time of meeting the great Doctor. For Rose? Well, I would never know that answer. In this second visit I would note all the small details of the man all in London seemed to be obsessed with. The great lord of crime they called him. Well it was hardly surprising his personality claimed such a title, he was almost regal in his barring. Regal, but most certainly dangerous. He would appear with his trade mark look of chaos. His hair stood controlled, yet uncontrolled. It had once been restrained you could tell, but after long sought out it's own freedom. And from what I had heard this was a similar story to his own. Not that I knew a lot about the man himself, only what the papers had spoken of. But as I glanced in his eyes once more I noticed an odd darkness that seemed to cling on to them no matter how much he tried to force it back to fit his image of this magnetic man.  
I knew so little about this man and this world. I felt like Alice after her falling down the rabbit hole.  
Mickey and I had been meet at the door and lead through his labyrinth of halls. I stumbled through to a small dark room where smoke seemed crawl like some nightmarish beast from a child's tale out the door, the room was dark and lacked proper lighting, a few lamps stood humanly in the back ground. There was a round table there many a famous, or infamous, face sat proudly, they appeared to be playing cards, but the smoke seemed to create almost a curtain around them. A curtain I was afraid to split. Mickey did not seem to share this issue and burst forward from our position by the door. In that second the small fraction of calm, the pausing of life that the past few seconds had held seemed to kick-start in to motion once more.  
This whole atmosphere seemed chocking to me. As if the smoke had turned to violent choking smog that the fair city seemed emerged in.  
"Oh, he had that girl. The pretty one too. Whatcha do to her Mickey mouse, pay her?" Came a joyous greeting. The man who said this I could pin point, the tone light in a bright American accent. One I knew belonged to a certain Mr Harkness.  
"Yeah, yeah." Mickey seemed to roll his eyes up in his skull at this, I was shocked at such calm behaviour in presence such as this. I could now see faces clearly. It appeared to be a room filled with five men, excluded the still standing Mickey and three barely dressed women who seemed to have been dancers at one point in the evening, but had now retired to more 'fun' activities. I shuddered slightly, I'd never been to a place like this. My parents would have been in joined graves by now. But I could not deny I was curious and my attention full perked. The woman themselves were planted in the laps of the seated males. I oddly noticed that the Doctor sat bare lapped, this surprised me. I figured such a figure would be in to such.  
"Well, sit Mickey boy we were just about to start a new round. And Mickey's girl, whose name I don't know, but hopefully by the end of the night soon will, feel free to join too. More the merrier." Came the charming knock out comment that lurched me from the inner musings I held. I sat down in the suddenly appearing seat that seemed to magic itself next to Mickey's. I realised once more this comment had emendated from Mr Harkness.  
So we played fourth with the game, comments a many about how Mickey had acquired me. I was told they were in jest. The dynamic was so strange, so alien. How people so extraordinary could be so ordinary. We played a few set's before Ms Noble came in to the room to a astounding raucous they all seemed well acquainted with the red head.  
"Started without me? I'll have you for that Johnny boy." Ms Noble spoke her voice raising as an amused tone slipped out from falsely scowling features, as her flame coloured hair spun around her shoulders as she sat herself, what I missed was the small look towards John she flashed. The whole affair seemed strange all these men seemed so used to female company, she got no comments that were so normal in today's days and always had been. But here strangely all seemed equal, except in coin, it seemed the Doctor was well skilled in such a game. It would take a few more seconds for me to notice the blonde stood a few paces behind Ms Noble. It was obvious the two had entered together. As the blonde gave a wide beam and sat between Ms Noble and the Doctor a chorus of shouts echoed the room, all variations of the name 'Rose' (The loudest being the form of Rosie which spewed from Mr Harkness.) It would be here I noticed the odd interaction between the blonde I would come to know as Rose and the Doctor, small whispers to the others ear small touches to the hand. The others seemed to not notice. (I would later work out this had been seen a good few times.)  
"Now everyone's here we can really start the party." Came the lascivious comment from a heavily smirking Mr Harkness.  
"Stop it…" Came the slightly exaggerated reply from the Doctor who was currently rubbing his eyes.  
"I was just greeting everyone Doc, what's wrong with that?" His warm American tone flitted around the room gently as he smiled in the direction of the now glaring Doctor.  
"He's right Captain Cheese cake cut it out." The shout came from beside me.  
"Whatever, Mickey the mouse." By now the Captain was half serious in a strop, sulking.  
"Wow, you can almost smell the Testosterone." The witty tone came dancing from the last of the people to join the table, the woman I would come to know as Rose. Donna hearing this seemed to erupt in a crumble of laughter. The Doctor seemed to burst out in a smile. The captain much the same. The women's light warm tone achingly like sunshine seemed to simmer through the cloud of male tension which hung over the air.

A few hours later we would return to the party which seemed to flared in to full flame, flickering and swaying in life. It would be later I noticed just how little company the Doctor seemed to keep.

Here once more we all separated, bar Donna and the Doctor. The two were speaking in muted tones. Mr Harkness had gone off in the direction of a gaggle of dances. Much like a hunter when praying on a pack of animals. Within seconds he seemed to be part of the group, forget hunter, he was a chameleon. Wilf, the other man who had been bare lapped during the game stood of centre, he seemed at ease just watching the younger generation at play as he sipped his scotch, he was Donna and the Doctors grandfather. Rose had disappeared and reappeared near Jimmy Stone. She seemed uncomfortable in this position, she seemed stiff and wooden. A pose I would later learn was out of fear. It was odd to see the young girl like this. So lifeless. I was like seeing a black hole compared to a supernova. One so bright, golden and luminous. The other so lacking in life, a darkness and only a darkness. Jimmy was gripping her arm in a tight hold that even from the looks of it was painful. His hand twitched harder to what I could only guess was a bruising hold, her eyes narrowed and suddenly she was next to Wilf. This action confused me, her entire closeness to this family confused me.


End file.
